


Remember Me

by Dreamin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/M, Married Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 18:06:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14598699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/pseuds/Dreamin
Summary: Sherlock wonders how good Molly's memory is.





	Remember Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MizJoely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/gifts).



> Inspired by a prompt from MizJoely -- "remember me."

“Will! There you are!”

Six-year-old Will Holmes looked up from where he was playing on the low stone wall with his toy cars (a police car, an ambulance, a red sports car, and a hearse (though his mum didn’t know about that last), to be precise) to see his best friend Molly Hooper coming across the lawn towards him.

It was Easter Sunday, and that year Easter was late enough that the weather was actually spring-like instead of more like winter. Will didn’t care, he’d play with his cars in all weather if his parents and bossy older brother Mycroft would let him. The only difference was whether his trousers sported mud, grass stains, or wet spots from the snow when he finally came inside.

Molly plopped down beside him, not caring if she got dirt on her white tights or yellow Easter dress. She beamed at him. “Everybody’s telling me how pretty I look today.” She actually sounded surprised.

Will didn’t understand that at all. _Of course you’re pretty today, you’re always pretty._ He didn’t say that, though – he didn’t want Molly to think he **liked** her, not like how Mycroft liked his “girlfriend” Anthea. Just thinking about the two of them being cutesy made him make a face.

She must have seen his look because her face fell for a moment then she smiled again, her excitement growing. “There’s going to be an Easter egg hunt! You should do it, Will! Whoever finds the most eggs gets a three-foot chocolate rabbit!”

“I should win and give it to Mycroft,” he said, grinning naughtily.

Molly giggled. “Then he’ll tattle and you’ll get grounded, again.”

“Worth it.”

“C’mon.” She stood up then held out her hand.

Will stared at her hand for a moment, wanting to take it but again not wanting her to think he **liked** her, then he shrugged a bit and put the toy ambulance in her hand.

Molly looked at it then back at him, her little eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

He shrugged a bit. “I can’t carry all of them at once.”

Her expression cleared and she smiled at him. “Okay.”

They walked back to the house together.

* * *

“You don’t remember me, do you?” Sherlock asked one night, thirty years later, as they were getting ready for bed.

Molly pulled the camisole over her head then raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s an odd question to ask your wife. Did you hit your head while you were chasing that criminal today?”

He chuckled. “I don’t mean the past few years, I mean from before.”

“What ‘before?’” she asked softly, walking around the bed to his side. “We met at Bart’s.”

“No, we didn’t,” he said softly, then he pulled a photograph out of the pocket of his dressing gown and showed it to her.

Molly’s face lit up. “That’s me! That was Easter Sunday, I remember that dress. Of course, it’s covered in chocolate in the photo. My best friend and I won the Easter egg hunt and the prize was a huge chocolate rabbit. We decided to eat as much as we could before our parents took it away from us.” She giggled at the memory. “Our stomachs were sore for the rest of the day.”

“Your best friend, Will,” he murmured.

She looked up at him, her eyebrows (no longer little but still dainty) scrunching in confusion. “Yes. Will Holmes. Have I mentioned him before? Will and I were thick as thieves but then my father got a new job in Liverpool and we moved away.” She looked down at the photo again, running a finger over the boy’s image and smiling fondly. “Those ginger curls. They were the bane of his existence, he said they made him look girly.”

Sherlock chuckled. “I got used to them eventually. Of course, dying them black helps.”

Molly slowly lifted her head to stare at him. “You … you’re…”

He smirked. “Did you really think Holmes was that common of a surname?”

Instead of replying, she pulled his head down for a kiss.

Sherlock’s last coherent thought was, _I definitely **like** her now._


End file.
